


Baby Girl

by Ellie226



Series: Mark/El [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, Diapers, F/M, Infantilism, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:01:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226





	Baby Girl

I was playing in the bath tub when Daddy told me. “This weekend, we’re going to try something different,” he started out. I wasn’t paying much attention because I was busy playing with my bubbles. They were everywhere, they smelled like jasmine, and they had glitter. And I love Daddy, but they’re fucking glitter jasmine bubbles. 

“Baby,” he said sternly, “you need to listen to me.”

“Daaaaadddddy,” I whined. “I’m playing.”

He reached into the tub and gently moved me so I was looking at him, “this is exactly what we were talking about last night El. You haven’t been listening lately. You ignore me or you whine. That’s not okay.”

“Nu-uh Daddy. I listen.”

“No Baby. You haven’t been listening.”

I picked up a handful of bubbles. “I listen.”

“Eleanor,” his voice was gentle, but I could hear the warning tone that he used when I was pushing it. “What happened last night when I told you to go wash your hands?”

“I did!” I protested.

“You did,” he conceded. “But first you kept playing until I reminded you several times, and even after I reminded you I got backtalk. And what about the night before when I told you that I wanted you to be in bed by the time I got home?”

“I was!” I protested. This wasn’t fair.

“Eleanor Rose! You were running into the bedroom as I walked through the front door. All of your toys were still out. You weren’t in pajamas. You hadn’t brushed your teeth. This isn’t okay Baby. You are supposed to listen and do what you’re told.”

“But I doooooo,” I whined.

“Enough. I bought some other stuff for this weekend, and we’re going to be using it.”

That got my attention. “What stuff?” I asked him suspiciously.

“You haven’t been listening to your big girl rules lately Princess. So we’re going to try giving you very little girl rules so you don’t have as much to worry about.”

I squinted at him. This did not sound like something I was going to enjoy. “Continue,” I prompted.

He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Continue please Daddy,” I corrected myself.

“You’re going to be my baby this weekend.”

“I’m always your baby.” I now understood why Daddy got so frustrated when I was evasive.

“You are,” he acknowledged. “This weekend though, you’re really going to be a baby. You’re not going to be my big girl who can help me bake cookies and draw me pictures. You’re going to be my tiny little baby who needs help with everything.”

“What?”

“I think you heard me Baby. Are you ready to get out?”

I scowled. “I don’t like this plan.”

“I understand. Are you ready to get out of the tub now?”

“Don’t want to,” I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Eleanor, if you want to stay in you need to behave.”

“Don’t want to.”

“And we’re done with bath time.” Daddy put his hands under my arms and hauled me out of the tub.

“Nooooooo, I want to play with my buuuuubbbbllllllllllllles.” I wailed.

“You had the opportunity to do that El; you decided that you wanted to be naughty.” Daddy kept hold of me with one hand and began drying me off.

“You’re mean,” I stomped my foot. His only response was a smack to the back of my left thigh.

“Daaaddddddy,” I whined. “That huuuuuuurts. Donnnnn’t.”

“Then don’t stomp,” he picked me up and carried me back to the bedroom, where he laid me on the bed and grabbed a diaper from a bag next to his nightstand.

“No diaper,” I told him, appalled. We hadn’t done that before.

“Yes diaper. Babies wear diapers.”

“I don’t like this,” I protested again.

He paused what he was doing, standing over me with the diaper in hand. “Who makes the rules?”

“I don’t WANT to be a baby.”

“Who makes the rules Eleanor Rose?”

“Daddy,” I gritted out.

“That’s right. We agreed that I made the rules. And this weekend, the rules are that you’re a baby. I’m sorry if you’re unhappy with that.” And with that, he lifted up my legs and put the diaper under my bottom. Sprinkling some powder on me, he finished. “Just relax Princess. You might like it.”

“I won’t,” I pouted, crossing my arms across my chest.

“Then it’s going to be a long weekend,” he told me, as he shook out footy pajamas.

“I’m not wearing those,” I told him imperiously.

“Eleanor, do you want to start the weekend with a spanking? Because we can do that.”

“Nooooo. But I don’t want to wear those pajamas. They’re for babies.”

“And this weekend, you are a baby. Look Princess, they’re pink and they have kitties. Stella’s going to love them. Now come on, let’s put them on.”

“Noooooo,” I whined, kicking my feet. 

Daddy caught one of my feet and held it still. “Eleanor, if you’re going to have a temper tantrum, then you can go right ahead. You’ll get a spanking, and then we’ll finish getting you into your new pajamas.”

“I don’t WANT THEM,” I yelled at him, jerking my foot back.

“Last chance to get dressed without a spanking Princess.”

I looked at him for a minute, then made a decision. “No!” I yelled, kicking Daddy in the hip (just a little).

“Eleanor Rose,” Daddy sounded surprised. But, I’d like to point out, he did not sound like he was in pain.

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me up to standing; then he grabbed the hairbrush and pulled me across his lap. He started out with the hairbrush.

It hurt. A lot. Like way more than getting kicked by someone would, especially if they only kick you a little. And a surprising amount given the extra padding of the diaper. I shrieked at the first swat, and was kicking and wiggling, trying to get away.

“I cannot believe you Eleanor. Of all the naughty things to do. You thought about that, and then you decided to kick Daddy.” He smacked my bottom repeatedly as I wailed and struggled.

“Stooooooop,” I cried.

“I will not stop. Naughty little girls who intentionally hurt other people get big spankings. That was very very bad Eleanor. “ Daddy stopped lecturing and focused on spanking me.

“Oooowwwwwww. Daddy no mooooooorrre.” I yelped as he hit a particularly sore spot, and I finally just collapsed and cried, whimpering “sorry sorry sorry.”

When Daddy finally finished, he stood me up and then laid me on the bed on my back. 

“Owwwwwwwwwwww Daddddddy,” I cried out, trying to roll onto my side to take pressure off my bottom. All that got me was a smack to the back of an already sore thigh.

“If I put you someplace, I expect you to stay there.” He told me sharply, rolling me onto my back.

I covered my face with my hands and cried, bereft. I sobbed even harder as I felt Daddy putting the pajamas on. I hated this. It wasn’t fair. I made myself hold still as Daddy dressed me, shifting as directed. I had to take my hands away from my face so I could put my arms through the sleeves, but then I covered my eyes again. I didn’t want another spanking, and Daddy was being mean. 

When Daddy finished zipping me up, he lay down next to me on the bed. “Princess, why do you have to make things so hard on yourself? You know what happens when you hurt somebody.”

I was crying so hard that I couldn’t get a breath in, and Daddy pulled me up against him. “It’s okay Baby. We’re all done. You’re not in any trouble anymore.”

I managed to choke out through my sobs, “that really hurt Daddy.”

“Good. I meant it to.”

“That’s mean.”

“It’s mean to kick Eleanor. You knew what to expect.”

“You didn’t have to smack me again; I just wanted to lay on my side. That wasn’t nice.” I pulled my hands away from my face to look at him.

“Eleanor, you deserved every single swat you just got. Now, are you ready to go play?”

I shook my head no, curling up and rocking myself slightly.

“Princess, come here.” Daddy pulled me closer and rubbed my back. “You know I don’t like spanking you Baby Girl. I want to have fun and cuddle with you, but you can’t do whatever you want.”

Daddy lay there with me for a while until I’d stopped crying a little, and then he picked me up.

“I can walk,” I told him, wiggling to get down. 

“Not this weekend.” He was very matter of fact, and I sighed, laying my head against his shoulder. At least he was making an effort to not support my weight on my spanked bottom.

“I need Stella,” I said.

He picked her up and handed her to me, and I put my thumb in my mouth. Trying to relax against him, I felt Daddy walking around, rocking me slowly.

“Are you thirsty from all that crying?”

I nodded, sniffling still. 

“Let’s go to the kitchen and get you something to drink then.”

“I want cranberry juice,” I said.

He smiled at me. “Use your polite words Baby.”

“Babies don’t know polite words,” I told him.

He looked at me and nodded. “You’re right. Babies don’t know polite words or any words really. I suppose, if you don’t think you’re big enough to remember how to talk...” he watched me expectantly.

“Please may I have some cranberry juice Daddy?”

“That’s my girl.” He carried Stella and I to the kitchen, and balanced me on one hip as he pulled out the cranberry juice. And a baby bottle.

“Not a bottle Daddy,” I protested.

“Yup. It’s a bottle this weekend.” He filled it with cranberry juice, diluting it with water. After shaking it, he walked out to the living room and sat on the couch with me. He held the bottle up to my mouth.

“I want a cup,” I told him. I was even willing to settle for the sippy cup he had bought.

“Not this weekend. Are we going to watch tv?”

I frowned at this. I was thirsty, and I knew that Daddy would hold out until I just drank from the bottle. Sighing, I pulled my thumb from my mouth. “I want to watch the episode of Walking Dead from last week,” I told him, reaching for the bottle.

Daddy snorted, moving the bottle out of my reach. “There’s no way that’s happening. Zombies scare babies. Pick something else.”

“I don’t want to watch anything else.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” 

“No.”

“Then quit being difficult.”

“I don’t like this Daddy.”

“Eleanor, if you complain again about it, you’re going to go to time-out. Now, do you want to watch some tv or do you want to sit in time-out?”

“Sleeping Beauty please Daddy,” I told him. I didn’t want to sit in time-out. Even with the diaper, sitting on my sore butt did not sound good.

“Alright, sit here for a minute then Princess.” Daddy stood up and moved to put the DVD in. I watched him moving around the room, quietly talking to Stella about the movie.

“Can we have popcorn Daddy?” I asked him.

“No Princess. Babies don’t eat popcorn. Are you hungry?”

I shook my head no. This was going to be a long weekend. Daddy sat back down with me and pulled me into his lap. “Open up,” he held the bottle to my lips. 

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I figured Daddy would view that as complaining. Instead, I obediently opened my mouth and let him give me my bottle. I should be grateful, I thought to myself. He could have opted for milk. Or formula.

Midway through the movie, I needed to go to the bathroom. When I tried to stand up, Daddy held me. “Where you going Princess?”

“Bathroom,” I gestured as I said it.

He looked at me for a minute, and I realized with a growing sense of horror that the diapers were not just for show.

“I swear, I will not fight about anything else, but please Daddy, do not make me use the diaper. Please?”

Daddy tightened his hold on me, “it’s going to be fine. You have your diaper; you can use it for me.” He gently stroked my arm as he talked.

“No Daddy! Pleeeeeease? I don’t want to,” I wanted to cry. I couldn’t use a diaper. It was embarrassing.

“Will it be easier if we keep watching the movie or do you want to rock?” Daddy’s voice was calm as he offered me options.

“I can’t Daddy. I really can’t. I’m not being naughty, but I can’t use a diaper.”

“It’s going to be fine. Rock or watch the movie? I can wait for you Princess, and I promise I’ll change you right away.”

I kicked the arm of the couch. “I won’t!” I said.

“You will. And if you kick anything else tonight, you’re going to get spanked again. Do you want another spanking?”

“No,” I sniffled, “why are you being so mean Daddy?”

Daddy kept rubbing my arm gently. “I’m not being mean. I know that this is a little scary, but it’s going to be easier once you do it and get it over with for the first time. Come on Princess.”

I turned, burying my face in his lap, crying. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I really really had to, and I could tell that Daddy was serious. 

“Do you need something else to drink to help Baby? I can get you another bottle.”

I sobbed at that. This sucked, and I was really regretting my decision to not listen this week.

“More juice?”

I clenched my fists and shook my head. I wasn’t going to do it. He couldn’t make me. I could hold out until he went to sleep, and then I would just use the bathroom.

“Come here Kitten,” Daddy pulled at me so that I was laying across his lap, my head on the sofa arm. He started rubbing my tummy, pressing a little. I squirmed uncomfortably.

“I don’t like that,” I told him pettishly. And I wasn’t lying. The additional pressure on my bladder was not helping matters. 

“It’s okay. You’re going to use the diaper, and then Daddy is going to clean you up. It’s not a big deal Princess,” he kept up a gentle patter, rubbing firmly.

I managed to make it through all of Sleeping Beauty. When the movie finished, Daddy put in Up. That was new; we hadn’t seen it yet. 

I tried to relax and watch, but he kept rubbing. Finally, I couldn’t stop myself. “Please Daddy. Please don’t make me.”

“Shhhh, it’s going to be fine,” he kept rubbing. I buried my face in Stella and whined in embarrassment. Finally, conceding defeat, I tried to focus on letting go.

It wasn’t easy. I kept thinking about my developmental psychology class. Toilet training is something we’re conditioned into; it’s incredibly difficult to override. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I managed to do it.

I sobbed in embarrassment as Daddy kept talking, praising me and gently rubbing my tummy. 

“Oh Princess. I’m so proud of you. You’re being such a good girl for me. Come here,” Daddy stood up, picking me up and carrying me into the bedroom. I kept my face hidden behind Stella as he carefully laid me on the bed. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he kept talking as he gently cleaned me off and changed my diaper. When he was finished, I rolled away from him, wanting to be alone.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

I sniffled. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Come’ere Baby,” he laid on the bed next to me and pulled me against him. “I know that was hard, but it’s going to get easier.”

“I didn’t like it,” I whispered.

“I know. You did such a good job though Princess. And it’s not going to be an all the time thing.”

“Not ever again Daddy,” I told him, trying to make myself sound as firm as possible.

“After this weekend, if you decide you can follow your big girl rules again without needing a million reminders and being sassy and talking back all the time, then you won’t have to use the diaper. But you’re the one who decides that Baby. As for now, this weekend it’s not a negotiation. No bathroom for you.”

I turned to him, “but what if I have to...you know?” my face felt hot. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

Daddy looked at me, then nodded. “I’ll make a deal with you Baby. Just wet diapers this weekend. BUT, I don’t want any trouble from you. You do what I tell you the first time, or no deal. Got it?”

I nodded my head fervently, “That sounds very reasonable.” Frankly, I would probably have told him he sounded reasonable and downright awesome no matter what the trade off as long as it stopped at just wet diapers. 

He smiled at me and then kissed me, “Do you want to finish watching Up?”

“Honestly? I kind of don’t think I paid that much attention to it to begin with Daddy. You were pretty distracting.”

“Is it time for bed?”

“Stories!”

“Stories? Okay; we can do that. Let’s go turn off the television and the DVD player. And we need to check all the doors. Do you want chocolate milk?”

I nodded my head and moved to climb off the bed. 

“Ah ah Princess. Let me carry you.”

Although I typically adored Daddy carrying me, I never liked it when we did something that I didn‘t get a choice in. Nonetheless, I held my arms up, waiting to be picked up. Like a good girl.

Daddy was pretty lavish with his praise. I think he knew how much I hated this, and he was making an effort to be encouraging. 

“Daddy,” I asked him as we walked to the kitchen, “Is it all weekend?”


End file.
